TPG (22 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Kyle stared at the barrel of the
gun as Eddie corralled them toward the couch. He couldn’t believe what was
happening.

“Have you
completely lost your mind?” he asked. “Are you really doing this?”

“You apparently
know what I already did,” Eddie said, seemingly trying to calm his own nerves,
“so you tell me, what choice do I have?”

Eddie was right.
Kyle
had
figured it out. Eddie had
not only abducted Hillier, but he had Bree abducted as well. And Kyle knew why;
Eddie didn’t want Kyle getting in his way. He didn’t want Kyle ruining his plan
to have Hillier help Celia, so he made it seem as if Bree’s life was at stake
since, without that threat, Eddie knew there’d be no chance Kyle would stand by
and do nothing. Even if it meant Celia could walk again.

“Yes, I figured it
out,” Kyle acknowledged. “I know it was you who staged Bree’s kidnapping, and I
know you aren’t going to hurt her.”

“Hurt her?” Eddie
quickly repeated, his eyes narrowing at the thought. “You’re damn right I’m not
going to hurt her. I went out of my way to make sure of it. The fucking goons I
got to lift her phone up at her camp and stage that video didn’t involve her at
all. And when they grabbed her today, they were under specific orders not to
mess with her, not to even fucking talk to her if they didn’t have to. They
weren’t even to goddam look at her the wrong way. And they didn’t hurt her
friend either. It was all fake. I went out of my fucking way to kidnap her in
the least fucking threatening way possible. You’re goddam right she won’t be
hurt. I love that little girl. I never wanted to do any of this. But it was the
only way to keep your Goody Two-Shoes ass from messing things up.”

“I know,” Kyle
said reassuringly, trying to calm him, trying to find the rational man he’d
known for so many years. “I know you wouldn’t. And I know you wouldn’t harm
anyone else, either.”

“Well, he’s got a
gun pointed at us,” Liam said. “And he’s letting Hillier go, so I would say
you’re probably wrong on that account.”

“He’s not letting
anyone do anything,” Kyle snapped, digging his eyes into Liam, begging him
without words to stay quiet and let him handle the situation. Then he turned
back to Eddie, who still had the gun pointed at them. “Liam does have a point
though. Why don’t you put the gun down? You know I’m not going anywhere until
we get this figured out. And I know you aren’t going to shoot us, Eddie. And
you know it too. So let’s just put the gun away. There’s no need for it.”

“Of course I’m not
going to shoot you,” Eddie said, unable to mask the warring conflict being
waged inside.

“So then just put
the damn thing down,” Kyle said.

Eddie’s grip
loosened, but he didn’t lower the gun.

“And think of it
this way. Even if we did try to make a run at you,” Kyle forced a smile, “do
you really think you wouldn’t be able to handle us
without
a gun?”

“Good point,”
Eddie said, allowing himself a smirk.

“So put it down
already.”

Eddie relaxed, his
expression becoming much more familiar to Kyle than the crazed façade that had
replaced it.

“I may not shoot
you,” Eddie said, “but I’ll knock you on your ass if I have to.”

“You won’t have
to.”

“Fine,” Eddie said
as he placed the gun on the table next to him. “So what do we do now?”

But before he even
finished the question, Liam sprang from the couch and ran straight at him.
Eddie barely flinched, simply sidestepped the awkward bull-rush then grabbed
the chubby man by his ears and lowered Liam’s head into his rising knee. Liam
fell to the ground, blood gushing from his nose.

Kyle rushed to his
side. “Jesus, Eddie!” he yelled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Me?
I
didn’t have to do that? What about
him
? What the hell was that?”

Kyle helped Liam
up and moved him back to the couch, grabbing a decorative fleece and applying
it to Liam’s nose.

Liam, with the
fleece pressed against his bloody and throbbing nose, looked at Kyle through
tears of pain. “Why didn’t you help me?” he asked. “That was our chance.”

“We don’t need a
chance,” Kyle said as he looked at Eddie. “Eddie knows what he has to do. Don’t
you, Eddie?”

“It’s not that
easy, Ky,” Eddie said, pacing around the room. “This is my daughter we’re
talking about. This man can get her to walk again. Do you understand that? For
Christ’s sake, she’s eleven years old. She has her whole life ahead of her and
this guy’s going to be able to let her live it as a normal girl. He can make
her walk again. Fucking walk again.”

“But at what
price?”

Eddie shook his
head. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was hoping it wouldn’t turn out
this way,” he explained. “I didn’t want to have to rely on him. I thought maybe
he could just teach me, or her, to do whatever the hell it is that he does and
then we’d eventually turn him in. That maybe she could, you know, just borrow
someone’s energy, just a little bit of it. But he says he can’t do that. He
said it’s something only he can do. So I asked if he could get her to walk
again, like how gets himself healthy. He said he can.”

“First of all,”
Kyle said, “how do you know he’s telling the truth? How do you know he’s not
just lying so that you’ll let him go?”

Eddie shrugged. “I
don’t. But it’s a chance I have to take.”

“C’mon, Eddie,”
Kyle said. “Get someone to walk again? You really think he can do that? He
isn’t a miracle worker. He can give energy to help someone focus. That’s it. He
can’t repair severed spinal cords.”

“You don’t know
that. Look at how he gets himself healthy. And look at what that John of God
guy does down in Brazil. And we don’t even know if that guy has half the
ability of Terry Hillier. Hillier can literally kill people by siphoning their
energy. You don’t think he’ll be able to do whatever the guy down in Brazil can
do, and more?”

“But all he does
with that energy is help Evan focus,” Kyle said. “Even a good hypnotist can do
that. It’s not like Evan’s any different physically. He doesn’t throw 110 miles
per hour.”

“But what about
himself?”

“His health issues
are probably due to the physical drain of taking in the energy. The brain isn’t
equipped to handle it. If it was, we’d all be doing it. All he’s probably doing
is getting a temporary high and masking the damage. Like an adrenaline rush. It’s
probably just a Band-Aid. What you’re asking him to do is completely
different.”

“What about John
of God?”

“Eddie, it hasn’t
even been proven that his treatments are anything more than a placebo.”

“Says who? Oprah?”

“C’mon, Eddie.”

“Look, you don’t
know what he can do. You
can’t
know
what he can do. Not until he tries. And hell, you didn’t even know it was him
until today.”

“It doesn’t
matter,” Kyle said, letting out a sigh. “Say you’re right. Say he
can
do what you’re saying. He’s still
going to have to keep killing. Are you really willing to let that happen?”

“I’m not saying
it’s easy, but think about it
—
isn’t
it the same price you were willing to pay when you thought Bree’s life was at
stake?”

“But it isn’t the
same,” Kyle said. “I was being forced to choose between my daughter’s death and
someone I didn’t know.”

“It’s close
enough,” Eddie said, “you were willing to let someone else die so your daughter
could live.”

Kyle rubbed the
back of his head. “Maybe,” he said. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I was
going to do. But it doesn’t even matter what I would have done or not, there
was only so much I could’ve done. I didn’t know who the man was. I had no clue
it was Hillier’s father. So I couldn’t stop him even if I wanted to do. It’s
not the same thing.”

“But that’s only
because you intentionally shut Liam out,” Eddie fired back. “Liam told you he
knew who it was, but you wouldn’t listen. You turned him away. Isn’t that
right, Liam?”

Liam lowered the
blanket from his face. “It doesn’t matter. He thought his daughter was going to
be killed. Your daughter is still alive. And she’ll stay alive. She just can’t
walk.”

“Do you have any
fucking idea what it’s like not to be able to walk?” Eddie asked, drawing
closer to Liam. “Do you have any clue what it’s like not being able to run, to
feel anything below your goddam waist? This is my fucking daughter, you
jackass. You have no idea. You have no fucking clue.”

But Liam wouldn’t
back off. “My niece is in a coma. She’s going to die,” Liam countered. “So
don’t tell me I don’t know. But taking another innocent life is not the
answer.”

“She may be your
niece, but she isn’t your child. You can think you love her just the same, but
you can’t, Liam. You can’t know the pain of seeing your own child like that,
especially when you know there’s something you can do about it.”

“So tell me this,
Mr. Father of the Year,” Liam said. “How many innocent lives is her walking
worth? Even if it could work, you think his transferring energy just this one
time will keep her walking? It won’t. If it did, Hillier would be pitching like
Cy Young every start, not just the ones at home when he’s giving him that extra
pop. And Terry Hillier wouldn’t be walking around looking like a
ninety-year-old in between surges.”

“Maybe you’re
right. And, if so, I’ll deal with that then. But we don’t know that,” Eddie
said. “And neither does Hillier. But what’s the harm in trying? He’s doing it
anyway. It’s not like I’m asking him to do anything he’s not already doing.”

“But we can stop
him, Eddie,” Kyle jumped in. “That’s the point. That’s been the whole point. We
can stop anyone else from dying. We know who he is, we know what he does, and
now we can stop it. Think of all the young people who’ve died, and who’ll
continue to die. Think of
their
fathers and mothers. Think of what they’re going through, what they will go
through. No one else should have to deal with another death at this man’s
hands. We can end it.”

“Shit, Ky,” Eddie
said, his eyes starting to well, “you don’t think I know that? You think I want
someone else to die?” He paused and tightened his lips. “But if Liam never
started looking for him, no one would have ever found him. No one would have
ever even realized these people were being murdered.”

“But we
do
know. And we can’t pretend that we
don’t.” He bore his gaze into Eddie’s, searching for the man he knew, begging
for his best friend to emerge from the shadows. “You won’t be able to live with
yourself if you let this happen. You won’t. I know you. I don’t care what you
think right now, you won’t. And God forbid if Celia ever found out what was
letting her walk. She’d never want to walk again.”

Eddie wiped away
the tears. “I fucking know, okay? I hear you. I know. But I just want her to
walk again. I just want her to be like the other kids. She’s my fucking
daughter.”

“She’s strong,
Eddie. You know that. She’s able to deal with it.”

“You don’t see her
like I do. You know what she told Dana last month? Out of the blue, she said no
one’s ever going to ask her on a date and no one’s ever going to want to marry
her because she’s in a wheelchair. Do you know how much that fucking killed me
to hear that?”

“She’s wrong,”
Kyle said, standing up. “You know that. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy
for her, but it’s part of life. It’s part of growing up. And yes, it’ll be
tougher for her. But she has the constitution to get past it. I know Celia.
I’ve never met a girl with a sunnier disposition. And you know you can’t cheat
life. This quick fix isn’t going to work. Maybe she’ll walk for a little while.
Maybe
. But Liam’s right. For how
long? And what’s it going to do to her? Will it debilitate her like what’s
happening to Terry Hillier? Will it make her condition even worse when she
doesn’t receive the new energy? I mean, seriously Eddie, think of the logistics
and the unanswered questions. What happens when this guy dies? Or doesn’t want
to be part of your deal anymore?”

Eddie stayed
silent for a few seconds, wiping a few tears away. “I know. I know,” he quietly
repeated. “I just want her to have what everyone else has.”

“She has more.
She’s got a great family, a wonderful life, and such a bright future. Don’t
screw that up, Eddie. Don’t do this. It’s not going to work out the way you
think it will. You know that. I know you do.”

Eddie looked up,
his gaze softening. But he didn’t say anything.

No one did. They
didn’t get a chance to before the distant sound of shattering glass sliced
through the still air.

Eddie’s eyes froze
as he yelled down the hall.

“Celia!”

But there was no
answer. He kept shouting for her as he sprinted toward where the noise had come
from in the kitchen. Kyle and Liam trailed not far behind.

“Hillier,” Liam
whispered to Kyle as they ran down the hall. “Has to be him.”

Kyle didn’t
respond. He couldn’t. His heart was racing, his skin clammy, mouth dry.

As he ran into the
kitchen, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

Celia. Spread out
on the floor, a thin black chord dangling from the headphones still on her
ears, a broken glass of soda next to her empty wheelchair. Eddie was already on
his knees at her side.

Kyle stopped and
scanned the room, looking for the person who did it.

Looking for Terry
Hillier.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

He felt better. Much better. The
aches and pains were gone, chased away by the surge of new energy. But he
hadn’t taken everything, so he only felt okay, not great. He felt close to
normal, but his body still craved more. But he couldn’t take in any more than
he already had. Whoever was on the other side of the door had either been too
far away for a strong connection or not strong enough for the surge he’d needed
to completely replenish his weakened body. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell.

But it didn’t
matter. It’d been enough to get him right.

And now he had to
get ready for his captor, who was bound to come after him, probably having
heard the crash of broken glass.

He initially
thought about breaking down the door and taking the initiative, but decided
against it. Besides the fact that his hands were still bound behind his back,
his captor had a gun. He also wasn’t a match. The advantage would clearly be in
his favor not Terry’s, so he went back downstairs instead and looked to even
the odds by finding a hiding spot, and a weapon.

There were two
closet doors in the basement, one off the stairs and another at the very back
of the room. He tried the one by the stairs first, turning around and opening
it with his bound hands. It was small and packed with clothes and boxes. Not
only wouldn’t he fit, but it was too obvious, and too close. So he walked
across the room to the opposite end and opened the other door. He was surprised
by what he saw. It wasn’t a closet at all. It was a utility room.
Perfect
, he thought as he backed up
against the wall and turned on the light switch. As the bulb flickered to life,
he saw a boiler, gauges, piping and a small workbench with a smattering of
tools in the corner, including a razor blade. He turned and picked up the
blade, then opened it and sliced through the twine binding his wrists. He
glanced back at the table and grabbed the hammer, then went back into the main
room and smashed both the ceiling light and the lamp on the table.

And then he heard
what he expected.

The door at the
top of the stairwell opening.

He hurried back
into the utility room and shut off the light dangling from the ceiling. Leaving
the door slightly ajar, he pressed his back against the adjacent wall,
clutching the hammer tight with his right hand and doing what he could to
minimize the advantages of his gun-wielding captor.

And then he
waited, confident his patience would win out, that his ability to kill without
care would ensure only he would be leaving the basement alive.